


Best of Me

by hideeho



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Christopher loves Eddie, Eddie Diaz Week 2020, Eddie loves Christopher, Eventual Fluff, Family Dynamics, M/M, Soft Eddie Diaz, They Both Love Buck, he really tries, he tries, parenting is hard, protecteddiediaz2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/pseuds/hideeho
Summary: "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not going anywhere."Eddie and Christopher throughout the years.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 316
Collections: Eddie Diaz Week 2020





	Best of Me

**2010, El Paso.**

“I’m telling you, Shan, it’s a girl.”

“With the way this little guy kicks? It’s definitely a boy.” Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he kisses her brow. They’ve had this fight more times than he can count, neither side willing to concede. 

It’s no secret that he has been hoping for a daughter since Shannon had first showed him the positive pregnancy test. Eddie has spent his life surrounded by sisters, female cousins and now nieces. He knows how to handle a little girl. He could already picture her chubby pink cheeks, brown hair and features just like her mama. A little girl he could handle. A little boy? He wouldn’t even know where to begin. 

Just because he was a man didn’t mean he knew how to raise one. 

He feels Shannon’s hand squeeze his own as the faint outline of a human being appears on the screen. Their child. That’s going to be _their_ child. 

“Would you like me to settle that debate for you,” the doctor offers, smiling up at them knowingly. Eddie turns to Shannon, but she’s already shaking her head yes. 

“You two are going to be parents of a healthy baby boy.”

Boy. A boy. They’re going to have a _boy_.

“You’re not disappointed, are you,” Shannon asks cautiously. 

“No,” he rasps out, his voice wet with the sheer reality of what is before him. That’s his son on the screen. He’s perfect. He’s going to be perfect. “That’s our boy. I could never be disappointed.” 

**2011, El Paso**

“It’s fine, Eddie. I can take care of him. You have to ship out in the morning.”

“Which is why I don’t mind. I’ve got it,” he insists, the weight of what he’s leaving her with hanging heavily between them. He’s doing this for them, he is, but that does little to ease his guilt. “Please, Shannon, it’s my last night home. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“A little late for that, isn’t it,” she asks curtly, but the fight has left her. She simply sighs, shaking her head as she makes her way back to their room. 

It’s a victory, but it hardly feels like one. 

“It’s just you and me, little guy,” he says softly, picking Christopher up to hold him against his chest. His mother would get on him for coddling him and teaching him poor sleeping habits, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

He’d never see him this small again. How big would he be the next time he saw him in person? Would he be talking? Walking? Would he even know who he was?

“Christopher, we need to have a talk, man to man.” Christopher blinks up at him lazily, mouth pouted in a tiny O. Eddie can’t help but bring his face down to his head, breathing in that uniquely baby smell, his soft curls tickling his nose. “Be good for your mom, okay? She’s going to take such good care of you, but she might get tired at times. She’ll be doing a lot all by herself. Cut her some slack, yeah?”

A tiny hand stretches out, grazing his cheek as he turns his head to give it a brief kiss. 

“I know I won’t be around, but I’m never going to stop thinking about you” he promises, bouncing him slightly as he paces around the room. “I love you, Christopher. More than anything. Doesn’t matter where I am, you’re always going to be first on my mind. So don’t go forgetting me, okay?” 

_Please, don’t forget me._

**2013, Bagram**

“Christopher, you’ve gotten so big,” he exclaims, trying not to show his frustration as the screen continues to freeze. 

His son’s attention span is tenuous at best and he knows how quickly he can lose his interest. 

“And those curls! Where did those curls come from, huh?” He makes a silly face, chest swelling as it elicits a giggle from his son. Tiny hands move to bang against the screen on the other side of the world, even as Shannon tries to retrain him. 

He can’t help but observe his son, trying to see what is causing Shannon so much concern. He sees an uncoordinated toddler, happy and giggly. So what if he’s apparently slower than his peers at learning to speak? His sister had been slow to talk and she is just fine. 

He doesn’t say as much. He can’t. He gets quick glances through a screen, but Shannon is there. He knows he has no room to talk. 

“Eddie, he’s getting fussy. Let’s try this again next week.”

“Come on, Shan, just a little bit longer—”

“It’s his nap time.” Of course, he should know that. They were late getting back to base, but that’s not Christopher’s fault and it’s certainly not her’s. 

“Right, right. I’m sorry. We’ll try again next week. I love you, Christopher,” he says, bringing the screen in to kiss, cold and dirty. A far cry from the soft sweetness of his son that only lingers as a memory now. 

“Dad! Dad! Dad,” comes a tiny voice, his little fist back to hitting against the screen. 

He called him dad. His first dad.

“I love you, buddy! I love you so much.” 

Christopher giggles. 

**2015, El Paso**

He’s done the math. He’s done the math until his eyes have crossed and a migraine has formed at the back of his eyes. He has to reenlist. There is no other way to make the bills make sense. No other ways to keep Christopher in the treatments he needs. 

He could work three jobs and barely scrape what he would get in hazard pay, let alone the insurance. 

They have a routine here, a routine that he has no place in. They don’t need him. He doesn’t know how to calm Chris’ tantrums, or what’s his favorite food. He has messed up bath time, nap time and meal time. He’s no good to them here, but he serves a purpose if he can provide. 

So he reenlists. 

He reenlists and faces the fallout. 

Shannon barely forgave him the first time; he doesn’t know that he’ll be as lucky this time around. 

She allows him to kiss her goodbye, but it’s short and cold. Her eyes struggle to meet his as he repositions his pack on his back. 

“Come here, buddy,” Eddie coos, picking Christopher up from his stroller to give him a hug. He wiggles anxiously in his arms, still getting used to him even after his time at home. Or maybe he simply senses something about him that he just doesn’t like. “I love you. Take care of your mom, okay?” 

Christopher continues to struggle against him. Eddie steals one last kiss before admitting defeat and placing him back in the stroller. This isn’t how he wanted this to go. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I arrive,” he promises. 

“Do what you want, Eddie. We’ll be here.” 

**2016, El Paso**

Shannon is gone. 

Shannon is gone and Chris is screaming. 

He should just call his mother, but he needs to do this. He needs to prove he can take care of his own son without calling in reinforcements. He has relied too much on her help since Shannon left. He thought she would guide him, but instead she has taken over. And he is thankful, he is, but this is his child. He could do this. He has to do this. 

“Look, you have to eat,” he insists, pushing Chris’ plate of food back towards him. He knows he’s not the best cook, but all he had to do was reheat this meal. It couldn’t be that bad. 

“I don’t _want_ this,” Chris cries, face red and eyes watery from behind his tiny glasses. He has been in a mood all day and Eddie doesn’t know how to fix it. No matter what he tries it only seems to make it worse. 

Eddie knows he’s fried. He can feel tension building under his skin. He has been working double - triple - shifts. Then there are the doctor’s appointments, the shopping, the chores around the house and now a son that won’t stop crying. 

“This is dinner, Chris,” he says slowly, forcing himself to not let the aggravation come through. 

“ _NO_ ,” Chris screams, ugly and harsh, throwing the bowl of soup against the newly mopped floor. The soup splashes against his pants. He’ll need to do more laundry. He’ll need to mop again. Chris still won’t eat. 

It’s suddenly all too much. 

He gets up from the table quickly, moving to the hall where he slumps against the wall. He rests his face against his knees. He just needs a minute. Only a minute to figure out what to do. 

“Daddy,” comes a soft voice, the sounds of crutches inching towards him. 

“Hey buddy,” he sighs, heart squeezing at the nervous expression on his son’s face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, come here,” he motions, lifting Chris to sit him on his lap. 

“I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t leave.”

“What? What you mean,” he asks suddenly, bringing a hand up to cup Christopher’s face. 

“I’ll be better. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, Chris. I got frustrated, that’s all. Just like you. But I’ll be better, yeah? Because I’m the adult. You don’t ever need to worry about me. I won’t ever leave because I’m mad.”

“Mommy did.” Bullets hurt less than this. 

“Because she was mad at me, not you. Your mommy loves you, more than anything else in this world. You know that, right? Nothing you did made her leave. There’s nothing you could do that would make me leave. It’s you and me buddy.”

Chris looks at him, so hopeful as he curls his fingers into his shirt. “You promise?”

“Yeah, buddy. I promise. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

**2018, Los Angeles**

“What do you think?”

“This. Is. _Awesome_ ,” Christopher gushes, looking at his new room with wonder. After spending their first few months in L.A. with abuela to get their footing, they had finally found a place to call their own. His own items were still shoved in boxes throughout the house, but he didn’t want that for his son. 

He had spent all night putting the finishing touches on his room; filling it with toys and pictures of the family. It felt like a home in this room. Their home. 

Something was still missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

“I think we’re going to like it here,” Eddie says, hugging Christopher to his side. 

“No, dad. We’re going to _love_ it.” 

**2020, Los Angeles**

“Why couldn’t Buck come over?”

“He has to help his sister paint the nursery,” Eddie explains, putting the frozen pizza in the oven. 

“We could help! Buck loves my painting.”

Eddie smiles, turning back to look at his stubborn son. He has no idea where he possibly could have gotten it from. “Buck has been here every day this week. Don’t you want some alone time with your dear old dad?”

Christopher shrugs and he tries not to take it personally. “It’s better when Buck is here.”

“Why, because he’s cooler,” Eddie teases, messing up Chris’ curls with his hand. 

“Because you’re happier when he’s around.” 

He says it so simply. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Chris rolls his eyes. He really needs to get him out of that habit, even if he’s pretty sure he learned it from him. “You’re always smiling when he’s around. And you look at him funny. Like you’re in love with him or something.” 

“I don’t—” Does he? 

“It’s okay, dad,” Christopher says gently, reaching up to pat his arm. “I love him too.” 

**2021, Los Angeles**

“A little to the left. No, a little to the right. More to the right. No, back to the left a little.”

Eddie shoots Buck a glare, briefly debating throwing the whole thing in the trash before Buck finally declares it’s perfect. 

Eddie walks over to where Buck is standing, leaning back against his chest as Buck’s long arms move to wrap around his waist. His chin is warm against his shoulder, full lips grazing against his jaw as they look over at their handy work. 

“What do you think, can you live here?”

“A little late to change my mind now. I’ll never be able to find another apartment that nice in my budget again,” Buck muses, squeezing him gently.

For the first time since he and Christopher moved in all of his belongings are out of boxes. Pictures adorned the walls. Chris’ artwork was framed and hung. An ugly chair Buck insisted on keeping held an extra pair of hand weights in the corner. 

It looks lived in. Settled. Like he was finally settled. 

“Can I see,” Chris asks from the hallway, peeking his head inside. 

“Of course you can! We can’t stop until we have your official seal of approval,” Buck announces, stepping aside to let Christopher in. “So, what do you think?”

Chris looks over the room carefully before grabbing each of their hands in his own. “It’s perfect.”

Eddie couldn’t agree more.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! I'm also on [tumblr](https://agentlemuse.tumblr.com/) if you ever have any questions or want to say hi!


End file.
